


what do i call you

by softouches



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, How do I even start, Kinda?, M/M, Minho is a good friend, and they are going through pinning, forgive the writer pls she is lonely and sad and want love, hyunsung are radio hosts, it's stupid and short but i just really wanted to write something for christmas, rooftop confessions, so here you go, something not angsty and nice, t for language because jisung is emotional and curses a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softouches/pseuds/softouches
Summary: “What are you doing here?” Jisung asks, throwing a quick glance at the clock on the wall. Three minutes to go. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating with Juyeon? I swear to god if Minho asked you to come today out of pity—”“We broke up,” Hyunjin interrupts his rambles, placing himself in a chair in front of Jisung, putting on the headset while linking in the mic.“On Christmas Eve?” Jisung shrieks, still dumbfounded by a newly acquired information.“I said it’s my Christmas present to him.”“Wait, what?”or: it's christmas and radio hosts hyunsung are a bit of in love.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 231





	what do i call you

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't really plan to post christmas fics but i suddenly got this idea after listening to taeyeon's what do i call you and then well, you know the drill.
> 
> i'm actually sorry because it's probably not super good and it's kinda short and all over the place but hope you enjoy it!
> 
> [now is playing](https://open.spotify.com/track/3Wu4lFjkhcXxB6WWaX9gtr?si=OKRVOQrNQtmbdlVq0JUALA)

“Are you hosting the show alone on Christmas?”

Jisung would have laughed if the question didn’t send a painful jab through his body. His back is facing Minho, so the latter doesn’t witness a strained flinch on Jisung’s face. “Probably yes, Hyunjin is celebrating with his _boyfriend_ ,” the word still sounds rather acidic on his tongue and Jisung lets out a bitter chuckle. “And all of my friends are disgustingly in love,” He rolls his eyes while turning around, his gaze landing on Minho who is sprawled on the sofa in the corner of the studio.

“You know you can crash at ours?” He asks, swiftly clicking through his phone screen. “Chan would be happy to see you.”

“Save the sentiments,” Jisung huffs.

“I’m trying to be a good friend.”

“And I don’t need you guys looking at me with eyes full of pity the whole evening.” Jisung comes closer, placing himself on the edge of the sofa, pushing Minho to the side as he hisses. “I’m perfectly fine with you doing this on daily basis anyway.”

“Maybe if you actually talked about your problems to us, we wouldn’t pity you that much.”

“Interesting offer, but I think I will pass.”

“Annoying,” Minho groans, shifting the blankets on the sofa closer to his body.

Jisung’s gaze drifts away to the tiny Christmas tree on the table near the mics and headsets, looking rather foreign in their studio premises, and decorated with fancy animal figurines with odds and ends of lyrics written on a white paper hanging around. Jisung’s idea, of course, but Hyunjin always grumbles how Jisung’s lyrics lack festivity.

 _Festivity._ Jisung wants to laugh.

Or to cry, but his ego decided to remind him that it actually exists.

“If only you weren’t that dense your romantic story could have a happy ending, you know?” Minho looks up at him, titling his head to the side.

_Could it?_

Jisung sighs, observing his locked hands, chapped from the cruel winter colds. His and Hyunjin’s story started in rather trivial manner – Jisung needed a person to co-host their radio show with, and they had enough of friends in common to find each other eventually. He wasn’t that used to share his working space with anyone apart from Minho and Seungmin, but Hyunjin was nice – if not to take his messy habits into consideration. The border between ‘hey we kinda have to work together now’ and ‘hey let’s do a movie night on Friday’ was crossed rather easily, Jisung didn’t even notice when his small friend circle acquired one more person – ironically, way too loud not to be noticed. And Jisung was fine with that. Happy, so to say.

Right until one more border in their relationships was crossed, cutting off all the possible exits, and Jisung fell. Hard, fast, and definitely unrequired.

“Maybe, if you actually told him—”

“You know he has never been interested,” Jisung lets out a dry laughter. “I don’t even understand how and when that happened.”

Jisung can’t remember the exact moment, just one day he looked up at Hyunjin during one of their many on-air discussions, and he was all bubbly and enthusiastic about the event he was invited to visit while having this huge headset on his head, and his cheeks puffed in a cute way when he was talking, his rambles loud and more high pitched than usual, and Jisung couldn’t really tear his gaze away and--

“Didn’t you write a song for him?” Minho snaps him back, shuffling closer.

“He thought it’s for my secret crush,” Jisung snorts. It has truly been a fiasco – the only coherent thing he had been able to squeeze out of himself is ‘please give me your opinion on these lyrics.’ Kind of pathetic, but Jisung is a coward when it comes to feelings. “That idiot.”

“Well, if you actually told it’s for him,” Minho shrugs.

“Shut it, hyung.” Jisung shakes his head. “Hyunjin is happy in his relationships and I, as a great fucking friend, am happy for him.”

Minho sits up, leaning in Jisung’s direction, his gaze sharp and intense under the dim lighting. “Is he happy, though? Did you even ask him?”

Jisung didn’t. It’s selfish, and so immensely self-centered, but he can’t bring himself to hear the answer coming out of Hyunjin’s mouth. See the glister in his eyes when he talks about someone else, and how the corner of his lips twitch upwards when he is shy or flustered.

Even thinking about this almost turns his blood into thick ice, making his body tremble.

“I asked you to shut it,” Jisung flinches Minho’s forehead and the latter squirms under the touch. “Besides, you know I have to work tomorrow, the show won’t host itself.”

“Don’t know for whom you will even host it at Christmas.”

“There are plenty of lonely people in the world, you know?”

_Are there?_

“Perhaps,” Minho shrugs, and gets up to his feet, stretching out his arms above his head while yawning loudly. He throws Jisung the last concerning look before picking up his bag, and heading to the door, putting layers and layers of clothes on. The weather is especially harsh lately, biting on every bare piece of skin it can find. “Merry Christmas, Jisung,” Minho mumbles, stepping out of the studio, lingering on the door much longer, than he usually does.

_Pity._

“Merry Christmas,” Jisung replies with a forced smile, lowering his gaze. “Tell Hyunjin I said hi.”

_I wish I could tell him that myself._

*

In Jisung’s opinion, Christmas Eve is nice. But not for the reasons most people love it.

Jisung likes that kind of aloof feeling going on the streets – even in the city center everything seems rather quiet, deserted, and calm. A few years ago, Jisung would say it is something that only reminds you of dull loneliness, but with the time he reevaluates the dramatic side of this, perceiving it as a break from hectic schedule and loud surroundings.

Their studio is small, but today it feels especially tiny when no one is there. Not like there a lot of people coming in regularly, but Jisung kind of feels hollow without usual chatters and laughter heard out of the rooms. He lets out a sigh, looking at their fancy clock on the wall.

**18:45**

Fifteen minutes to write out the script for today. Luckily, Seungmin isn’t there to scold him for that. _‘You and Hyunjin do everything last minute’_ he would scowl, while rolling his eyes. _‘No sense of responsibility.’_ And they would laugh this out behind his back, in poor attempts of not making Seungmin sad and even angrier. This makes Jisung’s chest pang with pain, sharp and stiff.

Fuck, he misses Hyunjin.

_Wait, the script._

Jisung quickly turns on his laptop and opens browser to look for decent topics of discussion and random Christams facts. He doesn’t have a festive mood at all, so being all lonely and sulky he already predicts how the episode would turn out to be the gloomiest in their history.

“God, Christmas songs are so boring,” Jisung mumbles under his breath going through the tabs. He wanted to choose the peculiarities of Christmas music as the topic today, but looking through his saved pages, Jisung’s mind feels all scattered, not managing to gather it into one wholesome picture. It’s five minutes to go, and Jisung starts slightly panicking, copy pasting some bits and parts into one document, when the door opens with a loud squeak.

Jisung yells, almost spilling the tea that he had made on the laptop. “Shit,” he hisses while looking up, but as his gaze lands onto familiar figure, he feels his mouth opening wide, eyes bugging out in surprise.

What the fuck Hwang Hyunjin is doing here.

“Language,” Hyunjin huffs, taking of his jacket and throwing it on the sofa. He is wearing a pink sweater, and his hair is definitely sparkling – Jisung is in love, but for sure he isn’t imagining it as the green and silver glitter is gleaming under the bright lighting on his jet-black hair. His cheeks are still red from the cold, and Jisung doesn’t know if his heart is combusting from this surprising appearance or from how fucking beautiful Hyunjin looks.

Probably latter.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung asks, throwing a quick glance at the clock on the wall. Three minutes to go. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating with Juyeon? I swear to god if Minho asked you to come today out of pity—”

“We broke up,” Hyunjin interrupts his rambles, placing himself in a chair in front of Jisung, putting on the headset while linking in the mic.

“On Christmas Eve?” Jisung shrieks, still dumbfounded by a newly acquired information.

“I said it’s my Christmas present to him.”

“Wait, what?” Jisung feels disgusting from the happiness and warmth that blooms at the words in his chest. “You are insane,” he mumbles, plopping back into the chair.

Hyunjin looks up – his gaze is sharp and intense, but at the same time rather tired and dull. There are probably millions of things he needs now – hot chocolate to soothe the sadness, warm cuddles in blankets and comforting words while swearing out his past relationships. But definitely not a heated discussion about creative choices in Christmas music composition.

“Hyunjin, shut it, you don’t even know the script.”

“Fuck the script,” he replies, putting on the headset. “As if you didn’t write it fifteen minutes prior.”

“What do you mean fuck the script?” Jisung wants to scream. Wants to yell at him for being even more irresponsible than him, already seeing how Seungmin will eat their brains out with a teaspoon tomorrow. “Hyunjin, you can’t just barge into the show.”

But then Hyunjin presses the record button, and Jisung has no other option as to give in.

Merry fucking Christmas, indeed.

*

“Let’s talk about break ups today.”

It takes every grain of sanity for Jisung not to break down in hysterical shrieks in front of Hyunjin and remember that they are, in fact, on-air. _The hell are you doing_? He mouths helplessly, but Hyunjin just shrugs it away, gesturing him to answer and go on with conversation.

“Break-ups?” Jisung gives a forceful smile, practically scowling in Hyunjin’s direction, and the latter breaks into silent laughter, throwing his head back.

 _It’s not fucking funny at all,_ he wants to scream. “What an interesting topic for Christmas discussion, Hyunjin,” he says instead, trying to keep everything civil with the same forceful smile sticking to his mouth. “Didn’t we promise our listeners to talk about peculiarities of Christmas songs on previous episode?”

Seungmin will fucking kill them tomorrow.

“Boring,” Hyunjing groans.

No, Seungmin won’t _just_ kill them. He would quarter them, maybe lynch them out, if they are lucky, and throw their bodies into the river to demolish the evidence.

“So many people are lonely at Christmas, you know?” Hyunjin continues and the only thing Jisung wants is to wipe out that smudge smirk playing on his lips. “Like you, Sungie.”

Jisung gives him a questioning look, but Hyunjin just shrugs at that. “You are not better, Hyunjinnie.” _Okay, Hwang Hyunjin, if you want to do this your way, let’s do this your way._ “At least I’m not the one dumping people on Christmas Eve.”

“It was a mutual agreement.”

“Couldn’t you wait for like, _a day_?”

“So, you imply that lying to your partner’s face is better than being sincere?”

Jisung closes his eyes shut. Opens them to take a deep breath and closes them again. “I’m not implying anything,” he says, rubbing his temples in attempts to go on with conversation without obvious insults. “I—we were just surprised. Guys, initially he wasn’t even supposed to be here,” Jisung finally remembers that they actually have listeners and audience, and it’s not one of their usual pointless bickers behind the scenes. _Flirting_ , as Minho calls it.

Jisung would call that _attempts_ to flirt.

“I decided to share my experience with our dear listeners,” Hyunjin says, and there is a taint sincerity to his words. That’s what people love them for, after all. How they are always brutally honest and clear in their words. And that’s why they actually have a good chemistry.

As hosts, of course.

“A lot of people suffer from loneliness during holidays, though. Healthassured states that loneliness at Christmas is more likely to affect the older generation, with research finding that more than half a million older people, but new data confirms that millennials are twice as likely as the elderly to have a lonely Christmas.”

“I always told you look older than your age,” Jisung huffs.

Hyunjin arches his eyebrow from across the table. “Is that the only thing you caught from my words?”

 _The show,_ Jisung mentally slaps himself _._ _You are hosting the show now._ “I think commercialization play a big part,” _is that the best you could have said?_ “We all have this perfect image of Christmas in our head – from ads, commercials, tv shows and movies, and I think we are trying to meet those non-existent standards in our heads when we think about it. Just like any other social construct, the concept exists in our heads but that doesn’t mean you have to push it onto your own narrative.”

“We all want some love, though,” Hyunjin smiles, but it looks a bit dull and dark on his lips. “I don’t think we are trying to fit the picture in our head, but rather feel that we belong somewhere. Or with someone.”

“What if I’m perfectly fine by myself?”

Jisung flinches. He doesn’t even hope that someone will actually buy this bullshit of a suggestion.

“Are you, though?” Hyunjin muses, looking back at him. His gaze softens, eyes crinkling in a smile as well. Jisung’s hearts pounds through his chest loudly, kicking out the air out of his lungs.

“Well, I have you today,” Jisung chuckles, and quickly switches the topic to commercialization of Christmas again.

Safe, interesting, and doesn’t require human emotions other than rage and anger.

The rest of the show passes in a nice way. Jisung and Hyunjin manage to bicker five more times, but it’s so lighthearted and laidback that the studio is constantly filled with their laughter and cheers. At some point, conversation springs back to music, as they discuss the most horrible Christmas songs that humanity has ever seen. The regular call section features some break-up stories from listeners, and turns out Hyunjin is not the only one who has dumped their partner on Christmas Eve (obviously). One girl tells a story – awful story – how she caught her boyfriend hooking up with her best friend the day before Christmas. Her laugh is bubbly and bright when she goes into all the small details, and Jisung can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. One day a single event seems like a massive catastrophe, and the next you recall it just like any other random and funny story to tell your friends about.

 _Ironic, how it’s basically what is happening now,_ Jisung thinks.

“And to finish today’s episode let’s listen to Taeyeon’s ‘What Do I Call You’”, Hyunjin says going back to his ‘radio’ type of voice – loud but exceptionally delicate at the same time. “I know it’s not a Christmas song but since we are breaking all the rules today, we might give a listen to a mellow break up song not to feel that lonely this beautiful evening,” he nods at Jisung, giving a quick ‘ok’ gesture.

Jisung nods back, catching the sign. “Thank you for being with us today and we’ll be back on Monday!”

“Merry Christmas~,” Hyunjin exclaims cheerfully, and the first chords of the song hit the room. It’s nice, Jisung really likes it as well. The singer’s voice is smooth and distinct, and the melody is full of dreaminess and calmness – something quite fitting for a cold winter evening. Hyunjin takes of the headset and Jisung follows alone, putting everything aside. “I think that was a great episode,” Hyunjin says with a small smile.

“It was,” Jisung agrees. “Perhaps, Seungmin won’t quarter us on Monday.”

“You wish,” Hyunjin huffs and the room fills with their laughter again.

The song stops playing and Jisung is met with hollow quietness. Hyunjin is doing something on his phone – probably scrolling through his social medias – and the silence around starts getting tensed. Jisung thinks that it’s the right time to confront the big elephant in the room in the form of Hyunjin’s break up, but the lump in his throat is so big and tight that it seems like the words resist to come out of his mouth on their own.

“So,” Jisung clears his throat. “Are you, like, okay?” _Of course he is not okay, you dumbass._ “Do you want to talk or?”

“It’s fine,” Hyunjin looks up and gives Jisung a quick smile. “As I said, no drama involved.”

“It doesn’t automatically mean that you are okay.”

“But I really am!” Hyunjin leans on the table with his whole body. “Look, Jisung, it should have happened long time ago and I had a great time here with you anyways,” he shrugs. Jisung’s heart has either stopped, or is beating way too fast for him to comprehend. “I don’t feel sad or disappointed just,” Hyunjin sucks in a breath, thrumming his fingers on the surface. “Jisung, do you have any plans?”

“Huh?”

“Plans. For today?”

Jisung gulps, mentally going back to the empty fridge and the soulless spirit of his apartment. Icky. “Nothing in particular,” he mumbles. “But I can text Minho or Chan and we can crash at theirs, if you want.”

“Nah,” Hyunjin says and gets up to his feet. “Let’s go, I know a place.”

“A place?” Jisung blinks at him, having troubles to process all the events that are happening. “This sounds straight out of romcom.”

“Is it a bad thing?”

For Jisung’s heart full of pining? _Probably._

“Oh, come on!” Hyunjin whines. “I know you don’t want to be alone on Christmas Eve.”

“Does anyone want to be alone on Christmas Eve?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Hyunjin winks, and Jisung’s soul leaves his body, most likely waiting to comeback when he wakes up from what seems like a fever dream. His long-term crush broke up with his boyfriend on Christmas Eve and is now inviting him to something that looks like a date.

Okay, maybe not a date, but let the boy dream.

“Fine,” Jisung rolls his eyes. _Play it cool, Han Jisung._ “Not like I have something better to do anyways.”

Hyunjin clasps his hands, fingers fiddling with the keys and something coy is gleaming in his gaze as he looks back at Jisung. “That’s going to be amazing.”

Jisung hopes so.

*

In Jisung’s understanding ‘amazing’ is to crash at a nice cozy place with significant amount of food and warm drinks while starring lovingly into each other’s eyes. Or maybe having dinner in a not that fancy but trendy restaurant. Or just simply ordering food to eat in the studio.

You see, ‘amazing’ in Jisung’s understanding is not identified as climbing rooftops in biting winter weather.

“I hate you,” Jisung huffs, breath uneven and hitched as they go up the the slippery ladder. Higher, higher, and even higher. Apparently, it is just a few stores above their studio, but as they step outside through the back door, everything is frozen, slick, and slippery. 

“You love me!” Hyunjin yells back, being far ahead of Jisung now. It’s dark, cold, and way too late now, and Jisung doesn’t understand where Hyunjin even gains all those energy sources with the way he hops through the slippery steps as if it costs him nothing. Way too energetic for a person who is going through break up.

“I didn’t sign up for this!” Jisung shrieks, grasping on the cold metal railings and feeling as they burn through his skin. He sighs, pushing his weight up once again.

The things he does for love.

“I told you to put on gloves!”

“I don’t have one,” Jisung grits through his teeth. The snow and ice creaks under his feet, and Jisung sees as Hyunjin rests on the top of the steps, stretching out his long arm into his direction.

“Grab my hand.”

“You won’t endure my weight,” Jisung gulps, looking up.

“You’re tiny,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes and before Jisung can spew something back grabs onto Jisung’s hand.

Somewhere in the studio Jisung’s soul dies from cardiac arrest.

Hyunjin’s hand is warm, surprisingly. Jisung doesn’t know how, and why, but he feels the heat from one tiny place go over his body in waves. Carefully, almost gently, Hyunjin pulls him up, his other arm catching Jisung by the elbow. The latter trips from the sudden contact, falling forward, but Hyunjin manages to catch them both.

“Be careful,” he whispers and Jisung finally looks up, Hyunjin’s face now being only few inches away. The glitter on his hair shines under the moonlight and his cheeks are rosy from the cold.

Jisung really tries not to drop his gaze lower because he really wants to kiss him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, looking away. The wind is cold but Jisung suddenly feels hot all over.

As they finally reach the top, Hyunjin suddenly collapses right there, in the snow, not really caring about the weather. Jisung wants to nudge something about the coldness of the ground, or how he will probably get sick, but the sight in front of him catches his eyes.

At first glance it’s nothing that special – just your regular rooftop with the moon and stars shining above. But as Jisung comes closer he sees the city underneath, the fairy lights gleaming in warm shades at every corner as hollow streets are filled with Christmas decorations. They work in the city center, so the surroundings almost look like they were taken out of the movie, as if someone enhanced the colours on their computer screen.

“Told you it was worth it,” Hyunjin says somewhere from behind, and comes closer. When Jisung turns around he sees a puffy blanket in his hands and a flask, obviously with something hot.

Definitely a fever dream. Or it’s an alternative universe where he is stuck in loop of clichés.

“Where did you even get this from?”

“I come here a lot,” Hyunjin explains, throwing the blanket onto Jisung’s shoulders. His fingers linger for a moment there, but then he sighs and leans back, as if startled.

“For what?” Jisung bundles in the blanket, hiding his face behind the thick layer of fabric.

Hyunjin shrugs, looking somewhere ahead. “To think, mostly,” he says, hands now tracing the snow that rests on the railings. It seems like he tries to draw patterns on it, or even words, but Jisung is way too scared to look. “You like me,” Hyunjin suddenly says and everything around shifts.

Jisung blinks. Twice. Pinches himself on the arm to make sure everything is real. “What?”

“You like me,” Hyunjin repeats, this time looking right at Jisung.

_Okay, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the—_

“I don’t,” Jisung blurts out as defense seems like the best weapon in this situation. His heart is pounding through his head and he feels as a slight ringing in his ears is blocking all the sounds.

“You don’t?” Hyunjin arches an eyebrow.

“No?” Jisung asks then shakes his head. “I mean, no,” he repeats in what he hopes sounds like firmer voice.

“Bullshit.”

Jisung isn’t religious but he prays. To any godly deity while asking for the earth to swallow him right there. Somewhere in the studio his soul is thrashing in agony. “Look, Hyunjin, let me explain—”

“I talked to Minho,” Hyunjin interrupts him and Jisung thinks he is on the verge of committing a crime. _Fucking Minho – “_ Don’t be angry, he told me this unintentionally,” Hyunjin says, as if sensing Jisung’s rage. “I mean, he implied that you might like someone, and maybe told me it’s one of your friends so I kind of figured.”

“Fuck.” Jisung feels as his face is flushing and the tears gather somewhere in the corner of his eyes. “I can control this.”

“Huh?”

“Please, don’t quit,” Jisung whines, hiding his face into his hands. “I can control it, I promise, and it’s just a stupid crush, it will pass and—”

“Stupid crush?” Hyunjin snorts, and there is something fragile and tangible to his voice. “Well, that would be sad because I’m kind of in love with you, Han Jisung.”

_What._

Playback. He desperately needs a playback and to put the whole world on pause.

“I’m sorry?” Jisung shrieks, finally looking at Hyunjin. The boy is smiling at him softly, eyes shining bright under the moonlight. “Wait, oh my god,” he leans on the railing, looking down at the hollow streets. Something gathers up in his stomach and Jisung feels as if he is about to throw up. “But you have been dating? For three months? I don’t understand?”

“It was you who showed me that stupid song,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. _Oh god, that stupid song._ “And the lyrics were obviously about someone, I thought you were planning to confess, so I decided to try to move on before it’s too late and I have to quit.”

Jisung’s brain is still short circuiting in attempts to process the information. “That song was about you, idiot,” he mutters.

“How was I supposed to know?” Hyunjin groans in obvious annoyance.

“You _weren’_ t supposed to know,” Jisung drops his head low.

Hyunjin hesitates for a second before placing a hand on Jisung’s back, soothingly patting it. “Hey,” he whispers, lowering his face to catch Jisung’s gaze. “It’s okay, you can take your time and you don’t have to say anything, yeah?” His voice is so gentle and Jisung really wants to hold Hyunjin’s hands again. He lifts up his face, feeling as the gust of the wind hits him with a force.

Jisung tries to take in everything that is happening, making sure nothing slips away through the memory lane of his brain. Hyunjin’s gaze is bright, and his lips look dry and chapped from the cold, but they are pink and nice, and he feels the smell of mint and strawberries.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung says, shuffling closer. “I think I have to kiss you to make sure it’s not some kind of time loop and everything won’t disappear when we touch.”

Hyunjin tries to contain the laughter but fails, the sound echoing through the empty streets. “That was the cheesiest pick up line I have ever heard. Two out of ten, sorry.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jisung says with a blank expression on his face.

“About the time loops, or the kiss?” Hyunjin chuckles and Jisung groans, feeling his face heating up. “It’s real, Jisung,” he traces Jisung’s cheek with a back of his hand, with a feather touch, so light but so forceful at the same time. “See? I’m still here.”

Jisung sighs, nuzzling into the warmth of Hyunjin’s hand that is spreading all over, going back and forth. But then his hand moves a bit to the side, fingers lingering somewhere over Jisung’s lips. It feels a bit painful, since they are constantly covered in little wounds, but pleasant at the same time, sending shivers down his spine.

When Hyunjin’s breath is on his mouth, something cold stumbles between their lips, sticking close. Jisung looks up and sees the snow falling down – not the misty and wet one – but thick, almost huge snowflakes now cowering their clothes, hair and body. Jisung feels how some of them lend onto his lips, cold contrasting with the heat of his body.

And then Hyunjin kisses those snowlakes away.

*

“You two,” Seungmin stumbles into the studio, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang. Hyunjin and Jisung quickly leap aside, and the latter starts mindlessly typing something on his laptop.

“Hi, Seungmin,” Hyunjin lets out a nervous laughter, scratching his head. “How did you spend holidays? Did you rest well?”

“Did _I_ rest well?” Seungmin snorts, coming closer and leans on the table, hovering over. “I nearly had a heart attack when I tuned into the show on Friday.”

“Oh, so you listened?” Jisung squeaks, peeping out of the laptop screen. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin nods, and Jisung’s heart drops somewhere to his feet as he grasps onto Hyunjin’s hand under the table.

Luckily, he can do that now.

“Really liked it! Adored it! Especially, I liked that part when you two _went out of the fucking script._ ”

“You see, we didn’t have _any_ script to begin with—” Hyunjin mumbles, and Seungmin throws his head back with the groan of annoyance.

“Well, I have good news for you then,” Seungmin smiles – a sharp and cold smile, Jisung doesn’t like those. “Because now you two will be submitting your scripts two days before the show so that _disheartening_ accident won’t happen again.”

“Look, it was a good episode, wasn’t it?” Jisung suggest, shrinking in his place.

“It was,” Seungmin agrees. “But will be even better when you both finally stop writing them fifteen minutes before the airing,” he sings-songs, leaning back and crossing his arms on his chest. “Waiting for your scripts on Thursday,” he says with the same sharp smile playing on his lips.

“Yes, sir,” Hyunjin muses, and Seungmin throws him the last threatening glance before turning around and walking away.

There is a mere silence after the door shuts close, but when their eyes meet Jisung bursts into laughter, leaning into Hyunjin’s side as he catches him in a gentle embrace.

“Are we really going to submit it on Thursday?” Jisung asks, resting his head in the crook of Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Of course, we won’t.”

The room fills with a hearty laughter again.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/softouchan)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/softouchan)
> 
> thank you for reading <3


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